44Becca stared in the mirror. The bruising around her right eye had faded to such an extent that some base make-up covered the blemish completely. She'd applied eye pencil to darken her brows and a coating of mascara to her lashes. For the first time since her arrival, she'd attempted to make her hair presentable, lifting the waves back and pinning them on the side. She'd been rather surprised that, when she realized she had no hairspray, Gaby had produced several cans for her to choose from.
“If you need anything, just ask,” the older woman had said. “People leave toiletries here all the time. I have a whole closet full of stuff.”
Becca smoothed her periwinkle dress, then pinched both earlobes. She considered foregoing jewelry, but changed her mind and reached to the bottom of her bag.
